


Moments In Our Lives

by curiosa



Category: Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: 50 Sentences, F/M, Gen, Growing Up Together, M/M, Slice of Life, Taiorato
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 18:17:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3579210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiosa/pseuds/curiosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They make each other whole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moments In Our Lives

**Author's Note:**

> So a long, long time ago, Digimon was my first ever fandom and like a whole lot of other people the news of a new season focused on the characters I love and adore (and will apparently never not do so) has me all excited and nostalgic and falling back in love all over again. So I cleaned up an old fic challenge, run on sentences beware and decided to post it over here.

**Heavy**

 

It's with a crushing force that he ploughs into him, tackling him to the ground in a rush of legs, arms, sweat and heat, fingers digging into the ribs of his chest and breath tickling hot at his ear.

 

**Slip**

 

Her eyes widen in realisation, “He's going to propose...” she slumps back into her chair, face pale and eyes blinking rapidly; and all Taichi can do is stutter, mouth open as he tries in vain to take back those carefree words.

 

**Uphold**

 

Sora sees herself as the barrier; she imagines that if she wasn't there the pair would go crashing against each other, an explosion of pain and anger, shattering into pieces that she is sure no once else could pick up.

 

**Magic**

 

Yamato wonders at Taichi's pumping leg muscles, watching the vibrations as his feet hit the ground; Sora is compelled by the way Yamato's long fingers pluck at his guitar strings, and Taichi marvels at the power Sora exerts as she flows and twists through the air, racket tight in her grip.

 

**Hurry**

 

Yamato's hands are outstretched as he waits, beckoning with every muscle for the pair to join him, feet hitting the ground along to the hammering of his heart as panicked faces stare back with alarm, deathly pale into his eyes – they will make it, they have to.

 

**Hole**

 

As he brings her out of it, pink arms grasping almost paper white hands, strong fingers curling around the skinny bones of her wrist; Yamato promises that he'll never let her fall that far again.

 

**Music**

 

It's with a grunt and a sigh that Yamato gives in, placing his guitar on the ground as he plugs his fingers in his ears, trying to drown out the sound of Taichi singing along as Sora dissolves into a fit of giggles.

 

**Inside**

 

She doesn't think she'll ever understand when he retreats, where he goes and why he does, or how it is that every time they know how to bring him back.

 

**Later**

 

She'll wake them in a while, Taichi's hand curled around his stomach and Yamato's palm resting against the side of his head, a tangle of limbs herself included, hardly moving since they collapsed from their exhaustion; and in the meantime, she'll keep watch over their sleep.

 

**One**

 

“Those three are like-” Daisuke pauses, watching, trying to find a way to describe the older trio perfectly, it's Hikari who simplifies the matter and Takeru who agrees, “They're one.”

 

**World**

 

He never admits it out loud, but Taichi knows deep down that he would never leave this place if he didn't have Yamato and Sora waiting back there for his smile.

 

**Cheat**

 

“Taichi,” she growls, as he counters, “So-ra,” Yamato rolling his eyes as he watches the two argue over which square Taichi's piece is really supposed to be on, “Em, guys,” identical, interrupted faces glare back at him, “WHAT?”

 

**Pink**

 

Neither of them have ever understood Mimi's obsession with the colour pink, but as the current brunette introduces them to her new project; a blushing Sora, face the soft pink tinge of a primrose, both agree that they can maybe begin to comprehend.

 

**Love**

 

“What do you think it represents,” she twirls the crest around in her fingers, relaxed as a hand moves to brush against her forehead, her crest, before moving to rest lightly right above her chest, “You.”

 

**Eat**

 

The best days are when they manage to coax Yamato into cooking, the so called expert always going all out in an effort to please his friends.

 

**Stone**

 

Sora can beat the both of them with a quick flick of her wrist, twisting effortlessly as she skims the pebble the furthest before it drops and falls with a soft plop, turning back to face the astonished pair with a beaming grin, “I think that means I win.”

 

**Boss**

 

He can command people to listen in a heartbeat, order people around with a singe glare, yet Taichi finds it so hard to say no when Sora sits him down to watch Dirty Dancing again for the umpteenth time, the sound of the door banging closed as Yamato makes a swift retreat while he still has the chance.

 

**Feather**

 

Feather light kisses are what they use to comfort each other, lips brushing against fingers, foreheads and lips.

 

**Here**

 

Sora finds any excuse to touch them, fingers entwined , hand in hand or linked arms, they call it her Mothering instinct and she justifies it as making sure they're all right.

 

**Now**

 

Taichi likes to drink in the moments they share, images like photographs stored away in his memory, Sora's bright eyes carefree and young, Yamato's rarely seen soft smile, the one that doesn't seem quite so rare when it's just the three of them together.

 

**Parent**

 

Sometimes Yamato feels he's a Father before his time, watching the antics of his two best friends with a fretful frown, Taichi tumbling into Sora as the two of them crumble to the ground, rolling to a stop with cries of pain that quickly dissolve into snorts of laughter.

 

**Free**

 

They envy him sometimes, _always_ , the carefree abandon he applies to his words, to his movements, not giving a damn as he does what he wants, regardless of the consequences.

 

**Whimsy**

 

Sora never has pictured romantic dances with Princes and suitors, or imagined herself surrounded by flowing gowns and chandeliers, she dreams of stumbling movement and tread upon feet, wicked smirks and steps made up as they go.

 

**Worry**

 

It's been thirty eight hours, forty three minutes and thirty six seconds since he was supposed to return home from a routine trip to the Digital World, with no word from the party that set out and no Agumon to support him; and neither can sleep as they wait, wrapped in each other's arms, skin to skin and feeling two worlds apart.

 

**Star**

 

Neither stop as Yamato drowns in the sea of fans, identical grins on their faces as they saunter away to a safer distance.

 

**Way**

 

The road is long and hard, but there are always two pairs of hands waiting to help pull them along.

 

**Dish**

 

Both eye the creation in front of them with trepidation, Taichi's face turning greener by the second and Yamato's smile dying quickly on his lips, “I don't think I followed the recipe perfectly,” she murmurs, “I had to improvise a tiny bit.”

 

**Pride**

 

He has buckets full of it, an emotion that Taichi seems to emblazon, bright and burning, and when he falls, he falls hard, crashing down to the ground so hard that he breaks.

 

**Build**

 

“He doesn't need his confidence building up any more, he spends enough time in front of the mirror as it is,” the glare Yamato throws his friends way is enough to freeze hell twice over.

 

**Expelled**

 

It's their last warning, one more prank and they'll be out on their ears, all in the name of fun or not, all three of them meet each other's gazes, twinkling brown, playful smirk and innocent pout; their next plan already in motion.

 

**Perfect**

 

In between them both she feels safe and content, ignoring the fact that Taichi's elbow is digging in her side and Yamato's foot is grazing her stomach.

 

**Night**

 

Taichi's teeth white grin is enough to chase the monsters away, and Sora understands instinctively how her new best friend staying over for a sleepover can make her feel infinitely safer.

 

**Lost**

 

“I'm sorry,” his words are empty, tears spilling down her cheeks and for the first time in his life he's not sure what to say to comfort her.

 

**Time**

 

“We'll make a pact,” she winks, cherry lollipop sticking out of her cheek, the inside of her lips a gummy red, all sticky, “If we're forty,” at which point her face pulls dramatically, “and we're still not married, then we'll have to marry each other.”

 

**Evil**

 

All of them feel that taint their adventures left upon their skin; the memories of moments were they lost control, allowed the darkness into their skin, thick and heavy.

 

**Today**

 

Going off to college feel like they're separating, it's why she hates to think about it, why Sora prefers the saying live for the moment, live for today.

 

**Crack**

 

“I can't,” he says, burying his head in his hands, “she'll kill me,” Yamato sneers and laughs before replying, “She'll kill you anyway.”

 

**Quit**

 

“Quit it,” Yamato articulates each word slowly, believing, however futile, that his words might have an effect this time.

 

**Play**

 

“Do you want to play?” The ball rolls to a stop by her feet, the wild haired boy's head cocked brazenly towards her, and the first thing she notices is that he too is missing his two front teeth.

 

**Nut**

 

“She's so drunk,” Taichi stares amused as Sora clambers up onto a table, twisting and singing at a loud and uncomfortable volume as all heads start to turn and look, “It's your turn to get her this time, Yamato.”

 

**Down**

 

“Will you get down before you kill yourself,” Yamato sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he tries his best to look aggravated, “Taichi do not make me come up there!”

 

**Ready**

 

Taichi pictures Yamato in one of his moods as a tightly wound up spring, coiled tight and ready, just needing that one extra prod before he'll go flying off into the distance.

 

**Slow**

 

When Taichi has that glossed over dead look on his face, both Sora and Yamato know he's been talking to Koushiro about computers.

 

**Animal**

 

“It's a cat, _our_ new cat,” Sora holds the soft fluffball up against her cheek, blinking rapidy as she waits to hear for Yamato's sigh of defeat.

 

**Teen**

 

Whenever either of his friends are by his side, Yamato doesn't feel that pressure building up so tight on his chest.

 

**Burn**

 

He is failing, he can tell, the team splitting apart as he breathes; and in that moment he likens himself to an out of control fire, moving fast and burning brightly, consuming everything that comes into contact with his flames.

 

**Tie**

 

“Please, I know how to wear a tie,” Taichi's fingers flick at the silk material, twisting and looping until he's created a whole new style of knot, one eyebrow raised in amusement as Sora gets to work on the lump across his chest, “There may have been one in our school uniform, but _you_ never wore it.”

 

**Blast**

 

He pushes him out of the way without a second thought, twisting as soon as they land, Yamato unable to decide whether he should be angry at his friend's incredulous stupidity or deliriously happy that he manages not to get himself hurt.

 

**They**

 

Yamato knows that he wouldn't last a second without them; it's rare when he thinks of it, but sometimes, fleetingly, he remembers what it was like to be alone.

 

**Rot**

 

Neither of them can keep it together, her body lowering into the ground where it will lay there and rot, an eternity before they can join her and be whole once again.

 


End file.
